


Lost

by Kim Gasper (mickeym)



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Established Relationship, Ghosts, Halloween, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1997-10-31
Updated: 1997-10-31
Packaged: 2017-10-08 17:21:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/77787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mickeym/pseuds/Kim%20Gasper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim and Blair meet an unexpected -- and unusual -- stranger while backpacking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost

"Man, whose idea *was* this?" Blair pushed a lock of wet hair back and tried to wipe the heaviest of the moisture off his face with his coat sleeve. 

"If you mean the trip in general, it was yours," was the dry reply. Blair turned to glare momentarily at his companion. 

"You're *so* not funny, Jim. Do you see anywhere we can make camp yet?" 

"I'm looking, Chief. Keep your pants on." 

"As if I'd take 'em off right now." 

Jim smiled, his eyes scanning the damp countryside around them. 

It really *had* been Blair's idea. Take two weeks and backpack through the hills of southeastern Kentucky and Tennessee. The Blue Ridge and Smoky Mountains were beautiful this time of year, or so his partner had said. They hadn't had much downtime in the last six months and two weeks of just them and nature had seemed terribly appealing. They hadn't been disappointed, either. The view was breathtaking and the colors spectacular. And, Jim mused, the nights hadn't been too bad either. All that fresh air and exercise had done wonders for their somewhat flagging sex drives. 

Then it had started to rain. Near as he could tell, it had been raining now for three days straight. Unfortunately, they *had* to get back to Gatlinburg, because that's where they were catching their commuter flight from. They were due back there on November second; it was October thirty-first right now. So they trudged on through the cold and the damp. 

"Hey, there's a spot over there," Jim broke out of his thoughts when his automatic scanning of the land in front of them yielded a place that was more protected than the rest by large overhanging branches. 

"Yeah, that looks good," Blair grinned at the bigger man. "Race you--loser owes the winner a blow job." 

Jim shook his head and grinned. "You're horny again?" 

"Always, lover. You bring out the best in me." 

"Or the worst. Go on, Sandburg. I think we'll both get what we want tonight."

 

                                                            oooOOOooo

 

Well, it was almost dry, Blair thought as he shook out his hair again. He glanced over at Jim, lying next to him, deceptively still. They'd got the tent up in record time, then proceeded to get comfy on their sleeping bags in nothing but their drying skins. It was too wet to have a fire, so they broke out the single burner cookstove and heated some water for coffee and some hiker's rations. Now warm, fed and drying out, Blair was in the mood to do a little further heat seeking. 

"Jim?" 

"Mmm?" 

"C'mere." Blair smiled when Jim lazily opened one eye. 

"You come here," Jim countered. 

"Why? I asked first." 

"Come here, Sandburg," Jim rolled onto his side and opened his arms up. The younger man moved into those arms, sighing in pleasure. 

"Oh, you're warm," he breathed against Jim's throat, feeling the throb of his lover's pulse beneath his tongue. The shiver that ran through the larger frame told him that Jim had turned up his sense of touch. "You're cheating," he chided, moving his lips sensuously against the soft skin. Jim shivered again. 

"Can't help it," he groaned in a low voice. "Feels so good when you do that·ah, yeah," he sighed as a warm, wet tongue started stroking up and down his throat and neck. "Love you, baby," he growled, hand raising to move Blair's head to where he could kiss him. 

"Mmm·ditto for me, partner," the younger man managed before his mouth was covered with Jim's. 

At some point Jim rolled on to his back pulling Blair to straddle him across his chest. His partner's hair hung down in a curtain, surrounding them. Ellison knew it didn't affect his partner, but the sight and smell of those curls, shielding them as they did, was one of the most erotic things he'd ever encountered. He raised his hands to burrow into the curls, cupping Blair's head, holding him close while their tongues stroked and touched and tasted. 

"Got something for me?" Jim whispered in a low, husky voice, pulling back from the kiss. 

"I might have," Blair responded in the same voice. He leaned forward to kiss Jim again, rubbing his throbbing erection against the hard stomach beneath him. "What do you want?" he asked, when he could talk again. 

"You," Jim managed through licks and nips. "Always, only, you." 

Blair leaned down to lick and rim a tempting ear. Jim shuddered at the touch. "Go for it, big guy." He reached for Jim's hand and guided it back to rest on his ass. "I want to feel you," he sighed. 

"You're sure?" Jim rubbed the soft skin, making circles with feathery touches of his fingers.

"Oh, yeah. Go on," Blair pressed himself backward, groaning a little when Jim began tracing his cleft with one finger. The groan turned into a growl when his lover sank one finger into his ass, burrowing deep into the tight passage.

"You brazen little shit," Jim muttered against his ear, breath delightfully hot against the sensitive skin. "You prepped yourself!"

"Wanted you·uh·oh!·all day·" Blair pressed back against the finger, groaning low in his throat when Jim slid a second one in. "Oh, yeah·" 

"You're beautiful," Jim said quietly, watching Blair lean back against his hand. He raised the other one to play with the golden ring that glittered through the dark hair on Blair's chest. The tiny bud was hard and tight, inviting gentle caresses. Jim pinched very carefully, taking care not to pull too hard on the ring. The object was to stimulate, not to overload. Blair moaned again and arched his back, driving his ass down on the fingers fucking him and pushing his nipple into the hand teasing him. 

"God--Jim--!!" His breathing was coming in harsh pants now, his body hot and flushed. 

"Getting ready, baby?" 

"Oh, God--" 

"Hang on, Chief. Don't leave me behind on this one·" Jim withdrew his fingers and spread Blair's ass, helping the smaller man shift backward. Blair pushed himself down in one fluid movement and both men groaned at the different sensations arcing through their bodies. They began a slow, graceful rhythm before gaining speed and intensity. 

Jim reached to grasp Blair's throbbing cock, stroking it in time to his lover's motions. "That's it, baby," he whispered, "ride me. Ride hard, make us come--" 

Blair lowered himself down until he was nearly lying on Jim's chest, still sitting on the hard cock impaling him. He sought out Jim's mouth and imitated the older man's hard, fucking motions with his tongue. 

"Gonna…come…Jim--"

"Let it go, baby…come on, give it to me…." Jim stroked the hot penis faster, licked Blair's ear and whispered hot words in it. "Fuck yourself, baby…come on, give it to me…I want to see you come…Uh…oh, shit…yeah…" he shuddered when Blair's body tightened around his, then spasmed, drawing him further into the heat. Hot, thick fluid fell in large drops onto his chest and stomach and the look of ecstacy on Blair's face was all it took to drive him over the edge. With a hoarse shout Jim threw himself into the storm and released himself in long, hot spurts deep into Blair's body. His lover fell forward onto his chest and laid there, chest heaving against his own as their bodies slowly calmed down.

 

                                                            oooOOOooo

 

Blair sat up suddenly, not even having been aware of falling asleep. 

"Jim!" He poked his bedmate and whispered again, "Jim!" 

The larger man groaned and rolled onto his back. "What?" 

"I heard something." 

Jim opened his eyes. "Like what?" he asked in a normal, though quiet, tone. 

"Dunno, man. But it's close--listen, there it is again." Blair held himself still, watched the frown on Jim's face increase. 

It almost sounded like someone moving through the underbrush, although they were moving stealthily. Then an even stranger sound…like a gun being cocked, but not sounding like any gun he'd ever heard. Jim reached for his jeans, aware from the otherwise quiet night that the rain had ended "Stay here, I'm gonna check." 

"No way, man. No way are you goin' out there by yourself." 

"Sandburg--" 

"Look, argue with me later." Blair reached for his own clothing. "Partners in all things, remember?" 

Jim sighed. "Come on." He opened the flap of the tent and peered out cautiously. 

Moonlight streamed down on their little clearing and he could see well without even resorting to his heightened visual abilities. Behind him he heard Blair gasp, then a warm hand was poking him, pushing his head around-- 

"Who are you?" The strange-looking man asked in a lilting southern accent. 

"Just a couple of guys camping out for the night. We're not on private property, are we? We tried to watch that·" Jim trailed off when he realized that the man was moving toward them, rifle--no, musket, MUSKET??--lowered menacingly at them. 

"I'm claiming you as my prisoners, Yankee trash. Hands up where I can see 'em." 

Jim looked at Blair and shrugged. "Until I can figure out what's going on," he murmured. Blair nodded agreement. 

"You don't look like soldiers," the man continued, moving steadily toward them. "Well…maybe *you* do," he gestured to Jim. "Ain't no way 'n hell shorty's a soldier." 

"Great," Blair whispered to Jim. "We're being stalked here by some dude who's had too much moonshine and too many of 'grandpappy's' folk tales about the glory days of the Confederacy. Check out his clothes, man." 

Jim nodded tersely. The man standing before them was dressed in an old-time Confederate uniform, complete with officer's rank. The one thing he couldn't detect from the man was any sort of sound…or heat, come to think of it. No respirations, no heartbeat, no sounds of fluids pulsing through a healthy, living body-- 

Back up, Ellison. He stared at the man in front of him, still holding the musket threateningly. "Blair," he hissed, "I'm not getting any vitals from him." 

"What're you sayin'?" the man demanded. "No talkin' while I'm figurin' what to do with y'all." 

They both swung their gazes to the odd man, then Blair slanted his sideways toward Jim, eyes goggling. "What d'you *mean* no vitals?! He's dead?" The whisper was sentinel-level only, but their strange captor glared at them. 

"I'm not dead," he exclaimed in disgust, "but y'all're 'bout to be." He swung the musket into place and fired, his sights fixed directly on Blair. 

"NO!" Jim shouted and turned, pushing his partner out of the way. He heard a strange noise, then felt a wave of cold air rush through him·then nothing. No bullet impacting flesh; no stinging, burning pain racing through him. Nothing. He glanced down at Blair, now sprawled on his ass on the ground next to him. "Sandburg?" 

"Jim--something *really* bizarre is going on here." He stretched a hand up to Jim. 

"I'll say." Jim helped his lover to his feet then swung back around to take a look at their visitor. He was staring at them with the oddest look on his face. 

"I…don't understand." 

It was a quiet voice, one of untold sadness, and Jim felt a pang of sympathy for this very odd man. He squashed it down then; the fellow had just taken a shot at them! **Nothing happened, though,** he reminded himself. "Who are you?" he asked quietly. 

The man looked up at him, startled by the question. "Lieutenant Charles Edwards, First Regiment, Bravo Company, Army of the Tennessee." He drew himself up stiffly and saluted. "Sir." 

Jim resisted the urge to salute back. This guy was *weird*. "Um…Lieutenant. I promise you, we're no threat to you…and we're not, uh, Yankee soldiers. Want to tell us what's going on?" Jim gestured toward several large stones that were lying in the clearing. The three men took seats on the rocks. 

"No, y'all don't act like northerners," the man mumbled quietly to himself. "I was leadin' my men toward Gatlinburg," he said finally, piercing the partners with a steely stare. "We came under ambush and had to return fire. I was wounded and blacked out. When I came to, my men were gone and I was left to look for them. I assume they mistook me for dead and moved on when they were able."

Blair shifted and leaned against Jim to whisper in his ear. "Are you picking anything up on him? Heart, breathing, anything?" 

"No." Jim returned his attention to their surprise guest. "Do you need medical attention now, Lieutenant?" 

The man in front of them shook his head. "No, I'll do. The wound stopped bleeding sometime ago." Edwards opened his coat and showed them a great, gaping hole where his mid-section should have been. 

Blair made a gasping noise and Jim turned to see his lover closing his eyes. A prickling chill stole down his spine when he looked at the Lieutenant again. He noted the strange pallor and the oddly colored eyes. And the absolute absence of anything that indicated life. He shook his head then, mind still having trouble accepting that he was looking at and talking to what he could only assume was…a ghost. He wasn't surprised to feel Blair's hand suddenly griping his thigh. 

"Lieutenant," the voice of his partner drew him out of his thoughts. "Do you remember the day you were injured?" 

"Sure as I remember the day I was born," the man answered back. "October thirty-first." 

"And the year?" 

"Eighteen hundred sixty-one." He cocked his head and gave Blair a puzzled look. "Might I ask about your line of questioning, sir?"

Jim smirked at the expression on Blair's face at being addressed as 'sir'. "Lieutenant Edwards…it's October thirty-first, nineteen hundred ninety-seven." 

"If this is a joke, sir, it is not an amusing one," their ghost exclaimed, his face growing more pale, if that were possible. 

"No, I don't mean it as a joke," Blair tried to calm him. "Here, look," he fumbled in his pocket and drew out his wallet, opened it to show the man. 

There was complete silence for a long moment when the ghost sat back to consider Blair's words and the driver's license he was shown. At length he cleared his throat and opened his coat again to regard his wound. "It's unlikely I survived this, isn't it."

Jim nodded somberly. "Extremely."

"Then why--?"

"Maybe your sense of duty to your men?" Blair questioned, dragging a hand through curls gone riotous from the damp. "You said you've been searching for them. Maybe if you felt your duty strongly enough, it was enough to keep you from going…wherever."

"The war is over," the ghost said, a quiet note of finality and desperation in his voice.

"It's been over for a long time," Blair confirmed for him.

"Who…won?"

The partners looked at each other. "The Union," Jim said cautiously, watching the other's body slump in defeat. "In reality though, everyone lost. The United States spent decades recovering from it. Nothing was ever the same, after."

"So it was all for nothing," the ghost whispered, pain in his voice.

"Not for nothing," Blair said. "Right or wrong, you fought for what you believed in. Conviction and commitment to something are qualities a lot of people are lacking these days. Maybe what you were fighting for wasn't the right thing to fight for, but you still believed in it. Strongly enough to take a stand."

"What do I do now?" There was immeasurable sadness in those words. "I'm so tired…I'd like to rest."

"There's no reason you can't," Jim nodded. "There's no reason for you to stay--you know now that you don't have to. Your men are long gone…and no amount of searching is going to bring them back now."

"I still feel as though I deserted them."

"Lieutenant, deserting them and getting killed in battle are entirely different," the detective leaned forward earnestly. "You didn't have a choice in the latter."

Lieutenant Edwards got to his feet. "Thank you, gentlemen. You have been most helpful this evening. I appreciate your assistance." He glanced over at the partners, who'd stood up as well. "I believe I know which way to go now, and I'm grateful."

"We're glad we could help." Blair watched the man, noting the difference in his demeanor now. He seemed a little more hopeful. The smaller man reached for Jim's hand and grasped it, threading their fingers together.

"Yeah, we're glad we could help you." Jim responded to Blair's slight squeeze. A small smile touched Edwards' face when he noted their clasped hands, then he saluted them and turned to leave. Ten yards later he disappeared into the mist.

Jim looked skyward when the first drop of water hit his head. "It's gonna rain again," he said quietly and turned toward the tent. Blair stood still, watching where Edwards had disappeared. "C'mon, Sandburg. We can talk about it in the tent." He tugged on Blair's hand and the younger man followed him.

"A ghost, Jim," he murmured a moment later when they were safely inside. "We were talking with a fucking *ghost*."

"Yeah," Jim shuddered. Blair echoed that and the bigger man drew his lover into his embrace. "Weird, huh?"

"'Weird' doesn't even *begin* to cover it, man," Blair responded tartly, leaning into the hand that was stroking his curls. "Mmm·nice." He sighed. "I hope he's at peace, wherever he is."

"Me, too." Jim nodded and leaned them backward onto the sleeping bags. "Let's go back to sleep and hope for no more visitors," he said. "Tomorrow we'll finish hiking to Gatlinburg and then spend the night in a motel. No more camping out," he finished, a shiver creeping up his backbone again.

"Sounds good to me, lover." Blair relaxed into Jim's arms and closed his eyes.

 

                                                            oooOOOooo

 

The rain was gone and the sky clear when they woke the next morning. No traces of their unusual guest remained…not that Jim had expected to find anything. He'd have chalked the whole thing up to a dream, if it weren't for the fact that Blair had the same memories.

"I was thinking," his partner began as they were heading out. "Last night--you know, a lot of people who practice pagan religions believe that All Hallows Eve, or Samhain, is the day when the barriers between the planes are the lowest." He looked around thoughtfully. "I hope that Lieutenant Edwards made it to his next plane. He seemed like a decent guy."

"Yeah," Jim shifted his backpack. "Anyone who felt so strongly about his duty that it kept him around, haunting an area·" his throat closed up inexplicably and he swallowed hard, turning to the smaller man next to him. "If anything happened to me, Blair·I'd haunt you for the rest of your life."

Sandburg looked up, expecting to see a teasing light in his lover's eyes. The depth of emotion there blew him away. "I love you," he said quietly, accepting Jim's words as the commitment they were intended to be. "I'll always love you." 

The two men embraced, bodies tight against each other, until the intensity of the moment passed. Then they broke apart and headed off again, ready to enjoy the day. Jim's voice carried on the wind, "I can hear Simon now, Chief--'only you two could go on vacation and rescue a ghost·'" 

Blair's laughter followed his words. 

And from another plane, finally at rest, steel-gray eyes watched and smiled with them. 

~finis~


End file.
